


Rules of Engagement

by HyperGinger



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Kindergarten & Pre-school, Cute, Cute Kids, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 21:09:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6675547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperGinger/pseuds/HyperGinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Volkner has a little bit of trouble adjusting on his first day of kindergarten.  Will anyone lend him a hand?  Ignitionshipping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rules of Engagement

**Author's Note:**

> “Eight hundred hours” is military speak for 8:00 am. Also, I don’t like how the anime portrayed Lieutenant Surge, so I rely on game canon instead…you know, where he’s not a douche. The fandom needs more doting-father-Surge.

A little blond boy sat restlessly in his chair, swinging his feet lazily back and forth. He poked nervously at his bacon and eggs with his fork. The nearly full plate indicated that he’d been doing more fidgeting than eating.

“Volkner, you know the rules. We clean our plates in this house!”

The little boy looked up from his food at his father, a burly, stern-looking military man with spiky blond hair that matched his own. He pouted. “But Dad, I’m not hungry. My tummy feels funny.”

The lieutenant’s face softened a bit. “Volkner, you want to grow up to be big and strong, don’t you?” He smiled when the young boy nodded enthusiastically. “You’ve gotta eat to grow!” he encouraged.

For his part, Volkner adopted a serious expression, but it faded back to apprehension when he looked back down at the food. His father hid his expression of sympathy to offer a firm compromise instead.

“I know it’s your first day of school today and you’re nervous about being new, so how about this? Today, just eat half of the rest and finish your orange juice. How does that sound, Volk?”

The boy looked back up and then put on a brave smile. “Thanks, Dad. You’re the best.”

Volkner’s father looked away to hide his fond smile. “Just for today. Tomorrow, it’s back to the routine. Now, go ahead and eat. We have to be out of here by eight hundred hours!”

The little boy nodded with determination and chowed down with renewed vigor.

\--

“Dad, my feet hurt.”

“Nonsense, Volkner. I have to tie these tightly or your feet will slip around in them. You don’t want blisters, do you? You’ll thank me later!”

Volkner winced a bit as his father tightened the laces one last time, and he fiddled with the cuffs of his oversized blue jacket. “Dad, why do I have to wear combat boots anyway?”

The man smiled down at his son and pulled away once he was done lacing up the elaborate boots. “Because I have a surprise for you for your first day of school! Do you want to know what it is?”

Volkner gasped and rocked back and forth on his heels in excitement, the large boots squeaking a little and making the motion seem unsteady. “What is it? What is it, Dad?”

His father’s expression grew serious again. “I’ll tell you what it is, but you have to promise you’ll always do your very best in school. Understand, Volkner?”

Volkner hopped giddily. “Yeah! I promise, Dad!”

The man smiled and reached into his pocket before withdrawing a clean, shiny Pokéball. Volkner’s eyes grew wide with childlike wonder when it opened in a flash, and the light faded to reveal a tiny yellow mouse Pokémon no more than a foot tall. The Pokémon looked around the room curiously and sniffed at its surroundings. It then looked at the eager five-year-old boy in front of it and cocked its head in curiosity. Volkner reached a hand toward it gingerly.

Before Volkner could get carried away with the new Pokémon, his father held up a hand. “Now, Volkner, you’re going to have to be gentle. This is a Pichu. They’re easily startled, so be careful!” Volkner didn’t look up, still preoccupied by the new arrival, who’d taken to sniffing at his outstretched hand. His father continued. “Rubber is your biggest ally when dealing with electricity, and the thick soles on your new boots will help you deal with any stray sparks!”

At this, Volkner did look up, his face full of shock. “Daddy, is this Pichu for me? Can I really keep it?!”

The man allowed his smile to show this time, and he placed a warm, heavy hand on his son’s scrawny shoulder. “It’s about time you got your first Pokémon. My first Pokémon was a Pichu, and I know this one will make a great companion for you.” He paused to make sure Volkner was listening before continuing. “A Pokémon is a big responsibility, Volkner, but I know you can handle it!”

Volkner’s eyes were wide with wonder as the little Pokémon waddled forward, and he gasped when it tripped clumsily on its way over, squeaking in distress and accidentally letting out a few stray sparks as it fell.

“Oh, no! Pichu, are you okay?!” Volkner panicked, flinching back a little at the electricity but stooping down to check on the mouse Pokémon anyway. The Pichu lifted itself shakily, eyes welling up from unshed tears. It seemed more startled than hurt. Volkner smiled gently and reached out a hand to pet it.

“Careful of the cheeks,” his father warned. Volkner nodded and instead shifted to pet the top of its head instead.

The Pichu shied away at first, but it soon relaxed at the gentle treatment. It smiled and nuzzled Volkner’s hand affectionately, squeaking calmly.

Volkner gave a wide, fascinated grin. His father smiled at the cute scene and bent down to the two, handing Volkner the shiny new Pokéball. “I’m sure you two will get along just fine. Now, time to dispatch! Let’s go!”

Volkner pocketed the Pokéball and nodded decisively, his eyes shining with determination, and the Pichu by his side enthusiastically mimicked the action.

\--

With his new Pokémon sitting in his lap on the car ride to school, Volkner’s nervousness died down a little bit, even with his father impressing upon him the importance of his “first mission.”

When they finally arrived, Volkner carefully hopped down the sizable distance from his father’s car to the ground, taking a moment to steady himself in his new boots. Frankly, he was never sure why his father had chosen this vehicle, which looked more like a tank than a car, and his father’s insistence of “maximum protection from their enemies in combat” hadn’t convinced him.

Volkner, his father, and Pichu soon entered the building. Volkner ran his curious eyes around the wide hallway, admiring the crude pieces of art on the wall signed proudly by their young creators. The trio was greeted by a tall, somewhat angry-looking white-haired man with a distinguished mustache. The man nodded solemnly at Volkner’s father and greeted him.

“You are the famed Lieutenant Surge, are you not? It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Surge had to bend down a little to shake the man’s hand in his powerful grip, and Volkner was once again impressed by his father’s height. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d grow up to be that tall one day.

Surge nodded and placed his hands behind his back in a stiff stance. “Likewise.” Next, the man turned his stern gaze down to Volkner, and he flinched under the glare, though he quickly stood back up straight to match his father’s posture.

The older man tilted his head at Volkner’s behavior, but his face softened a little. He bent down to Volkner’s level and shook his hand gently in his own, and Volkner did his best to give his strongest handshake. “You must be Volkner, correct?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Volkner replied automatically. The man coughed and turned his head to the side, covering his mouth with his elbow and making strange noises into it as his body shook with the effort. Volkner supposed they were coughs, though they sounded a little funny.

The man turned back forward, his face red from the exertion. “Apologies…it’s simply quite clear that you’re your father’s son, you understand.” Volkner cocked his head in confusion, but he heard a slight chuckle from his father next to him. “Now, then, allow me to introduce myself. I am Principal Rowan. I run this school, and I’ll always be here in case you need help,” he explained, gesturing to an office with his name printed on it behind him. “Though I can’t imagine you’ll be sent my way all that often, given how well-behaved you seem to be,” he admitted, a small smile gracing his features as he exchanged chuckles with Surge. Volkner didn’t quite understand, but he nodded anyway.

Surge cleared his throat. “Rowan, will you be in need of my assistance past this point?”

Principal Rowan stood up again. “No, Volkner and I will be fine from here,” he reassured with a slight smile. “He’s in good hands.” Lieutenant Surge gave a curt nod and turned to his son, bending down on one knee in front of him. He placed one of his large hands on Volkner’s small shoulder and addressed him.

“Volkner, be careful out there. You’re headed into enemy territory now. School can be a battlefield, but you’ll be fine if you’re prepared. Do your best!” When Volkner bobbed his head obediently, Surge smiled and stood back to his full height. “Well, then, I’ll be pulling back for now. I’ll come pick you up later. Dismissed!” Volkner and Surge exchanged dutiful salutes before he marched off, leaving Volkner to look back at Rowan, who was hiding more “coughs.”

Volkner was beginning to think the coughs were actually laughs, but he figured he probably wasn’t supposed to say that and kept quiet.

Rowan turned back to him and nodded. “Shall we?” he offered, gesturing down the hallway as Volkner gulped, his nervousness setting back in now that his father had left. He was surprised by a small squeak at his feet as the Pichu, whom he’d nearly forgotten, tugged at his pant leg with a tiny paw. The Pokémon smiled at him and pumped a paw in the air in encouragement.

Volkner returned the grin and looked back up at Rowan bravely. “Yeah!”

\--

Principal Rowan ventured farther into the building and gestured to the different wings of the school as Volkner toddled behind in his combat boots. He was starting to grow attached to the shoes, though it was a little hard to balance in them.

Finally, they reached the kindergarten wing and stopped outside a door with “108” printed on it. Rowan opened the door with a soft creak, poked his head in, and waved the teacher over.

Volkner peeked around the principal’s legs to get a glimpse of the inside of the classroom. It was full of bright posters; some listed the rules of the classroom, while others had pictures of Pokémon with encouraging quotes and phrases (the one with a baby Shinx holding tightly onto a branch with the words “Hang in there!” would later become Volkner’s favorite, even if he couldn’t read it quite yet). Symbols he later learned were numbers lined the walls of the classroom to form a border.

A hubbub farther into the classroom soon caught Volkner’s attention, and he looked in to see a group of about twenty kids his age sitting in colorful plastic chairs at small tables in ones and twos. Their eyes were wide with curiosity, just as Volkner’s were, and many of them were accompanied by Pokémon of their own.

Volkner’s stare broke from theirs when a pleasantly plump woman in her fifties approached them. Her hair was graying and friendly wrinkles were beginning to form around her eyes with age, but she still walked with a spring in her step and showed a welcoming smile as she immediately came up to Volkner and bent down to address him, ignoring the principal entirely.

“Why, hello there, dear child! What’s your name?” she enthused warmly.

Volkner stood up straight and cleared his throat. “I’m Volkner, ma’am,” he answered definitively, extending his hand to shake hers firmly.

The woman laughed a little. “Well, now, Volkner, you’ve quite the grip!” she complimented, her eyes crinkling more as she smiled again. “I’ll be your kindergarten teacher for the year. You may call me Miss Bertha.”

Volkner nodded, and Bertha stood up again, smoothing down her dress to speak with the principal. Volkner tuned out their discussion and looked back inside, where the other kids were still staring. His knees shook a little bit in anticipation.

A soft squeak came from the Pichu at his feet, and Volkner looked down at its reassuring smile, feeling himself smile back. At least Pichu was here with him. He’d be fine.

“Well, now Volkner, are you ready to come introduce yourself?” Volkner looked back up to see that Miss Bertha was gesturing back toward the classroom, and he gulped. He felt a nudge on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Principal Rowan leaning down to slip something into his jacket pocket.

“This is a…ahem…a good luck charm for your first day,” Rowan clarified, whispering with exaggerated loudness. “Don’t let the other kids see it, or they’ll all want one!”

Volkner cocked his head in confusion before reaching into his pocket and taking a peek at its contents. A boyish grin spread across his face when he was met with a Rage Candy Bar. His eyes sparkled as he turned his excited gaze back up. “Wow, thanks! This is really…um…” Volkner almost forgot himself and straightened his posture. “I mean…thank you, sir. I’ll make good use of this.”

Rowan snorted and smiled down at him. “Good luck,” he said gruffly before wandering back over to his office. Bertha’s gentle voice sounded out from next to him.

“Principal Rowan likes to pretend he’s tough, but he’s really just a big softie on the inside,” she explained. Volkner grinned, and she gestured to the classroom again. “Now, shall we? You may keep your Pichu outside of your Pokéball if you wish.”

Volkner felt a tug on his pant leg and glanced back down to see the yellow mouse Pokémon was trying to get his attention. He gave it a curious glance, and it held up its paws, reaching for him. He smiled and lifted the Pichu into his arms, and it snuggled comfortably under his chin with a contented squeak. Volkner nodded back up at Bertha and strode bravely into the classroom behind her.

Volkner couldn’t help but feel distracted by the stares of his new classmates. Time seemed to grind to a halt as his surroundings seemed to disappear, and all he felt was the smothering presence of twenty sets of eyes boring into him. A small trickle of sweat was making its way down the side of his face before he knew it, and his limbs shook. He was only about a quarter of the way into the room when the unthinkable happened.

Looking back on the incident, Volkner almost wished there had been something on the ground—some sort of cord, a chair leg, anything—so that he wouldn’t have to face the reality that he tripped on his own feet in his large boots.

But that was exactly what happened.

_**THUD** _

“Ow!” Volkner cried out as he hit the floor hard, not unlike his Pichu had that morning. A collection of raucous laughter erupted from the other kids as they couldn’t help but giggle at the situation, and the sound bore down on Volkner, making his chest tighten in anxiety. He was so caught up with his humiliation that couldn’t hear a soft, hesitant, “Is he okay?” from the back corner of the room.

“Oh, dear! Are you okay, Volkner?” Bertha’s concerned voice met Volkner’s ears as she bent down to check on him. He also heard a flustered squeak from the Pichu in his arms (luckily, he’d only fallen on his shoulder, so he hadn’t collapsed directly on his Pokémon).

Volkner sniffled and allowed Bertha to help lift him carefully back to his feet. She started to withdraw her hand from his shoulder, but seemed to change her mind when she saw his small body still shaking from the shock and embarrassment.

He looked hesitantly back up at the class and immediately looked back down when he saw their faces were still filled with mirth at his expense. Instead, he met the reassuring gaze of his (still slightly shaken) Pichu as Bertha started his introduction for him.

“Now, class, settle down, settle down. It was only a minor slip-up, that’s all,” she said, both to chide the class and to comfort Volkner. “Children, this is Volkner. He just moved here from Unova. Everyone, say hello to Volkner!”

“Hi, Volkner!” the class chorused obediently. Their chuckles seemed to have died down, so Volkner gathered up enough courage to look up.

Upon seeing Volkner look up, Bertha smiled encouragingly. “Very good! Now, Volkner, why don’t you tell the class a little bit about yourself?”

The class wasn’t laughing at him anymore, but Volkner still froze, slight panic setting in at the attention brought upon him. He cleared his throat and tried to ignore the rapid tempo of his heart and his protesting stomach. “M-m-my name’s…V-Volkner. I…I like the color blue, an-and I like ‘lectric-type Pokémon. Oh, and this is Pichu!” he added hastily. The tiny Pokémon turned around in his arms to face the class, waving a paw with a friendly grin as Volkner held him up a little. A few of the girls cooed at its cuteness.

One student in the front wasn’t so nice, however. “You talk weird. Why’re you talkin’ like that?”

“Wh-what?” Volkner stammered, his blood running cold at the objection. “I-I don’t talk weird! It’s not…” He trailed off when he was interrupted by more laughter.

“You sound funny!”

“Talk more!”

“Why are your shoes so huge?”

“Why’s your hair so pointy?”

Bertha tried to calm the class again, but Volkner was getting fed up. “I don’t talk weird! I’m normal!” His cheeks burned in frustrated humiliation.

The voice in the back spoke up again to say, “Guys, stop being meanies! He doesn’t like it!” Unfortunately, it went unheeded.

As the class’s giggles grew in volume and he felt Volkner tremble with nervous, embarrassed anger, Pichu started getting protective of his trainer, and the inexperienced Electric-type couldn’t help but growl quietly and let out a few stray warning sparks. The small bit of electricity didn’t bother Volkner too much thanks to his oversized boots, but it had another unfortunate side effect.

The class quieted for a moment, but then their laughs only got worse. Volkner was confused until one student clarified the problem. “Your hair looks funny now! It’s sticking up all weird!”

Sure enough, Volkner’s already-spiky follicles were now standing on end from Pichu’s vain attempt at defending him, and the Pokémon whined in apologetic embarrassment.

“Class, that’s quite enough,” Bertha commanded in an attempt to quell the teasing. For his part, Volkner felt his anxiety shifting further into frustration, and he puffed out his cheeks angrily. This only worsened the situation. A child in the middle of the class spoke up this time.

“Guys, look! His hair’s all spiky and his cheeks are all puffy! He looks like a Qwilfish!”

There was a brief pause before the kids erupted into laughter once more, the voice of the lone child in the corner rendered inaudible even as he vainly cried out, “Guys, stop it!”

Bertha had had enough. “QUIET! Children, that is quite enough! We do NOT laugh at others!” The room immediately went silent aside from Volkner’s deep breathing as he tried to keep himself under control. It was obvious that the class wasn’t accustomed to their gentle teacher raising her voice. “We show respect for each other in this classroom, understood?” The other kids nodded obediently. Bertha gave a sharp nod in return. “Good. Now, Volkner and I will be right back, and you WILL behave yourselves while I am gone. You will continue your coloring in silence. Is that clear, children?”

“Yes, Miss Bertha,” the children responded, a few hanging their heads in shame. Volkner barely registered the comforting hand on his shoulder leading him back out of the classroom. His body went on auto-pilot as he was led out, and he sat numbly on the tiled floor outside of the room, leaning against the wall for support. Pichu hopped down to stand next to him and nuzzle his side so he could hug his knees to his chest defensively and hide his face behind them as shivers wracked his small body.

Bertha sighed, feeling guilt and sympathy spread through her as she knelt down in front of Volkner. “Volkner…I’m sorry, child. I should have cut in earlier.” The little boy gave no response, so she tried again. “I apologize, dear. I didn’t notice soon enough that it was bothering you. You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s my fault.” Again, Volkner didn’t respond. She sighed and tried one more time. “The other children…they’re not usually like this, I promise. We don’t have to go back in until you’re ready,” she reassured him. He remained still aside from the sniffles and shakes, and she wilted from the guilt. She could hardly blame him for not trusting her after she’d let him down.

Back in the classroom, the kids were beginning to get rowdy once again as their short attention spans allowed them to quickly forget their teacher’s stern words, and they chatted up a storm. She turned a concerned eye back toward the room, but her expression lit up as her gaze turned to the back corner and an idea struck her. She stood up and poked her head back into the classroom.

“Flint? Flint, dear, can you come here for a moment and join us?”

Volkner wrinkled his nose in confusion behind his knees, and his sniffles stopped for a moment. Lint? Like pocket lint? What was she talking about? He remained on the floor for a few moments before he heard a new voice in front of him, this one scratchy and low with concern.

“Hey, are you okay?” When Volkner didn’t respond, the voice tried again. “Yer not cryin,’ are ya?”

At this, Volkner finally replied. He sniffed one last time and wiped his reddened face with his sleeve. His voice was raw as he retorted defensively, “’m not cryin.’ Soldiers don’t cry!” He looked up from his sleeve and saw a strange boy sitting in front of him.

The boy’s scrawny torso was clothed in a yellow tank top, and his arms were long and skinny; they reminded Volkner of spaghetti. His worried face was a little goofy; he somewhat resembled the Chimchar on his shoulder, especially since his big ears poked out so far. That wasn’t what grabbed Volkner’s attention, though.

“Whoa…your hair! It’s so…big!” Volkner enthused, his reddened eyes going wide, anxiety momentarily pushed aside in favor of the spectacle in front of him. “And red! And poofy!”

The other boy’s face relaxed at Volkner’s change in attitude. “That’s right! This is the ‘Flint ‘fro’!” he declared proudly.

Volkner gaped in awe, and he reached out tentatively with his hands. “Can…can I touch it?”

The other boy’s smirk grew mischievous. “Yeah! Go ahead!”

Volkner’s knees dropped down as he unrolled from his defensive curl. He scooted forward instead to sit cross-legged so he could reach his classmate’s hair. He poked it hesitantly at first, but he soon started fluffing it in earnest and smiled a little. The redhead tipped his head down to make it easier to reach, and Volkner giggled a little. “It’s so fluffy!”

Bertha, who’d knelt down to join the two, couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows a little. Flint was usually quite protective of his hair.

The novelty had successfully distracted Volkner, so the boy sat back up, and Bertha introduced him. “Volkner, this is Flint. He’s one of your new classmates.” Before Volkner could say anything, Flint chimed in.

“Are you really a soldier? That’s so cool!” he exclaimed, clearly impressed.

Volkner crossed his arms proudly. “My dad says anyone can be a soldier. You just have to be brave and protect what you care about,” he declared with his nose in the air. Flint looked on in awe, so Volkner continued. “You need…uh…service of self…excel in all you do…and…um…” he stumbled uncertainly, counting diligently on his fingers as he went, “and…and integrenuity! That’s it!” he finished with a determined nod.

Bertha had to hide a chuckle in her hand, but Flint didn’t seem to notice the butchering of the English language. “That’s so cool!” He paused as something occurred to him. “Hey, why does your dad know about soldiers anyway? Is he a soldier, too?!”

Volkner beamed proudly. “Only the bestest of the best,” he boasted. “He used ‘lectric Pokémon to fly his planes and fought for Unova in the Great War. He’s a hero, and I want to grow up to be just like him!” He paused and looked down at his too-large shoes, and his face fell a little. “I’ve still got some growin’ to do, though. These are huge!” he lamented.

Flint frowned for a moment, but then he grinned. “Here, try this!” he suggested, reaching forward to untuck one of Volkner’s pant legs from its boot and pull it down to cover most of the oversized shoe, making it look more like a normal sneaker. “Now they’re not so big no more, right?” he pointed out with a winning smile.

Volkner’s eyes went wide, and he hurriedly imitated the action with the other leg and smiled adoringly at Flint. “Wow, you’re really smart! I’ll be as big as dad in no time!”

Flint smirked at the compliment. “Yeah! What’s your dad look like anyway?”

Seeing her chance, Bertha chimed in. “Well, we’re coloring right now! You can show Flint, can’t you, Volkner?” she encouraged.

Volkner bobbed his head happily. “Yeah, that sounds fun! Let’s go!”

“Wait just a sec—I want to match you!” Flint interrupted. When Volkner tilted his head in curiosity, Flint smirked and bent down to his Pichu, pointing to his hair excitedly. “Hey, Pichu, shock my hair for a sec! It’ll be fun!”

Pichu’s eyes widened, but Volkner nodded enthusiastically, and the Pokémon climbed onto Flint’s shoulder. He carefully nuzzled his afro, allowing his static to make the hair stand on end just as Volkner’s was.

Flint patted his hair to feel the size, and Volkner giggled at him. “It’s so huge now! I bet you could even store your Pokémon in it now!”

Flint gave a hoarse chuckle. “Yeah! That way, I could send my Pokémon out of my hair during battles. That’d bewilder the other guy, huh? Wouldn’t that be hilarious?”

Both boys hopped up with joyous energy, and Bertha stood up a bit more slowly. The group made their way back inside, Pokémon in tow.

When the boys reentered the classroom with matching smiles and frazzled hairdos, Bertha couldn’t help but notice Flint glance at their classmates, frown, and hurriedly hop from Volkner’s right side to instead walk at his left between him and the other kids and put a hand on his shoulder, almost as if to protect him. The others didn’t give Volkner any trouble, and Bertha smiled at the boy’s protective instincts. She knew she’d picked the right person to be Volkner’s first friend.

\--

While Flint and Volkner sat down to color, Chimchar poked Pichu to get his attention, gestured to Flint’s afro and some of the crayons, and cackled a bit. Pichu’s eyes widened, but he nodded and muffled his laughing squeaks with a paw.

Oblivious to the Pokémon’s plotting, Flint kept chattering away with Volkner. They proved to be good coloring buddies, as Flint used mostly yellows and reds, while Volkner tended to stick to blues and greens.

“The way you talk is really cool, Volkner! Can I learn to talk like that?”

Volkner’s eyebrows rose with surprise. “Wow, you really like it?” Flint nodded, and Volkner smiled in relief. “Good. I thought everyone was gonna think I’m weird! Everyone sounds like this in Unova,” he clarified, his voice sounding a little whiny.

Flint shook his head. “Your voice is really cool! If everyone sounds like that in Unova, I wanna live there!”

Since he was busy complimenting Volkner, Flint barely noticed his Chimchar climbing up on his shoulder, and he definitely didn’t notice Volkner’s Pichu climbing up to stand on top of Chimchar’s head and lean over Flint’s hair with an armful of crayons. Volkner was about to point it out when Chimchar held a finger up to its lips, shushing him. Volkner cocked his head and smiled, but Flint didn’t notice.

They kept talking and drawing for a few minutes. Flint was just finishing an energized rant about how Fire-type Pokémon were apparently “the way of the future.” Volkner wasn’t quite sure what he meant, but his new companion was entertaining, so he watched quietly.

“…and, and…and when I train with Chimchar, I get really fired up! I just—huh?”

He was interrupted when Chimchar tugged at his sleeve, made a panicked noise, and frantically pointed down at the table.

Worry spread across Flint’s baffled face, and he immediately looked down to try to see what was wrong, only to tilt his head down, making a mass of crayons fall out of his hair and collide with the table with a disorganized clatter.

Flint’s face shot up again to stare blankly at his Chimchar, who (along with Volkner’s Pichu) was clapping and cackling at the successful prank. Volkner soon burst out in a fit of giggles, too, and Flint couldn’t help but join them, roughly brushing his hands through his afro and finding a few more crayons in the process.

“—Flint? Volkner? Are you two paying attention?”

The occupants at the table froze at the stern voice and looked up to find that Bertha had managed to sneak up on them. Her voice was serious, but she wore a kind smile on her face.

Flint gulped. “Uh…yeah! Yes, Miss Bertha!”

Bertha chuckled, choosing not to call him out on the obvious lie. “Well, then, of course you’ll know that the rest of class is already on their way to lunch, correct?”

Flint and Volkner exchanged surprised looks, and then they beamed in excitement. The two grabbed their bagged lunches from where they’d stowed them under their table. “Come on, Volkner! I’m starving!” Flint whined dramatically. Bertha smiled affectionately as he grabbed Volkner’s hand and dashed out of the classroom, no doubt realizing Volkner probably didn’t know the way to the cafeteria.

\--

Volkner and Flint didn’t leave each other’s sides for the remainder of the day, and Bertha watched attentively as various events quickly strengthened their budding friendship: Volkner sharing his Rage Candy Bar with Flint at lunch, Flint helping Volkner bond a little bit (albeit hesitantly) with a couple of their other classmates, Volkner letting Flint use his blue jacket as an extra blanket when he was cold at naptime, Flint picking Volkner first in gym when the teacher made him a captain for soccer, even though he knew Volkner’s boots would probably hinder him in sports…their every interaction reminded Bertha once again of the good decision she’d made.

\--

Surge stifled his smile when he saw his son exchange an affectionate hug with another boy from his class before sprinting unsteadily toward his father, excited Pichu in tow. Volkner skidded to a stop a few feet from him and adopted his stiff salute, oblivious to the other kids’ amused looks.

“Private Volkner, reporting for duty, sir!”

“Very good. At ease!” Volkner relaxed. “Status report?”

“Stable condition, sir! Except…”

He hesitated and looked down at his hands, and Lieutenant Surge raised a concerned eyebrow. “Speak up, private! Don’t falter.”

Volkner showed his father his palms, both of which had some slight scrapes. “I tripped and fell earlier, but I’ll be fine, sir!” he said with a brave nod.

Surge’s concerned expression turned to pride at the show of strength. “That’s my boy. No tiny scrapes can take a Surge out of action! Since you’ve been tough on your first day, how about some ice cream?”

Volkner’s eyes lit up. “Affirmative, sir! Request permission to have gummy bears!”

“Permission granted, Private. You’ve earned it,” he confirmed, taking his son’s hand to lead him outside. “On the way, you can give your report on the events of the day.”

Volkner nodded and skipped at Surge’s side. “I can’t wait! I made a new friend today!”

“Oh?”

“Yeah! His name’s Flint, and he’s the coolest ever!”

\--

Volkner dashed down the hall to his classroom excitedly. He ran by himself through the school these days, having memorized the way to the room in his two months at Sinnoh Elementary. It wasn’t long before he arrived at the door and poked his head in curiously. His eyes sparkled with glee when he spotted who he was looking for.

“Flint!”

The boy in question, who was currently sitting cross-legged on the floor with a small group and sucking on a bright red Ring Pop while waiting for class to begin, looked up when his name was called. A gap-toothed grin spread across his face as he hopped up and raced over to his friend. “Volkner! You’re here!” The two shared their usual good morning hug, and Pichu and Chimchar leaped off their owners’ shoulders to say their greetings as well. Flint pulled away and patted Volkner’s shoulder. “Boy, am I glad you’re here! All the girls are playing _house,_ and it’s so _booorrriiiiinngg,”_ he whined dramatically, drawing out the word and rolling his eyes.

Volkner giggled and let Flint pull him by the hand back to the others. The two sat down, and Flint let out an exaggerated sigh. “Jasmine, Whitney, Viola, Maylene, are you guys done yet?”

Whitney giggled and twisted the edges of her oversized softball jersey bashfully. “Nope! We still need to choose our husbands!” Jasmine and Viola giggled as well, though Maylene looked a bit bored. Flint rolled his eyes again, but the others paid him no mind. Whitney looked to Viola first. “Who are YOU gonna marry, Vi?”

The little girl was clearly prepared for this question. She reached into one of the many pockets of her cargo capris and pulled out a small, plastic, neon green camera decorated with butterflies. “There’s this boy who lives next door to me named Aaron, and he’s really dreamy. He collects Bug Pokémon, just like I do!” she enthused. She held up her camera. “I got some pictures of him the other day, but they didn’t turn out so good. I still need to work on my picture-takin’ skills,” she admitted with an embarrassed pout. She passed around the photos. They were pretty grainy from the low quality of the cheap camera, but Volkner could just barely make out a bowl of green hair with one large strand poking up comically. He hid his snicker behind his fist.

Viola pocketed the photos and her flashy camera carefully and turned to her right, playfully nudging the girl next to her. “What about _you,_ Jasmine? Who’s _your_ husband gonna be?”

Jasmine sputtered and gestured hesitantly to herself. “Wha—me?!” The others nodded, and she looked down and started twirling her hair nervously. “Um…uh…I don’t know…”

Whitney crossed her arms. “No, that’s no good, Jazz! You HAVE to choose,” she commanded. “Who’s gonna build and fix everything in your house and lift all the heavy stuff?”

Jasmine huffed and straightened up at this. “I can do that stuff just fine! I’m really strong!” The other kids’ eyes grew wide at her uncharacteristic outburst, and she shrank back down and twiddled her fingers. “Um…I’m not lying,” she defended weakly.

Whitney frowned. “Hmm…well, then, who’s gonna squish all the scary bugs in your house?”

She was interrupted by a loud, indignant gasp. “Whitney, how could you?!” Viola protested, pointing a delicate, accusing finger at Whitney. “Bug Pokémon are our friends!”

Whitney held up her small hands in defense. “Okay, okay! Sorry!” Viola calmed down, and Whitney scratched her chin thoughtfully. “Okay, fine, but you’ll get lonely if you don’t get married. We don’t want to see you lonely, right, guys?”

The other kids shook their heads rapidly, and Jasmine looked down and sighed. “Okay, fine. I-I-I’ll ch-choose…um…” She looked back up at her friends, cupped a hand around her mouth, and whispered, “Roark.”

“Pfft,” Whitney laughed disparagingly. “ _That_ dweeb? With the dorky glasses and geeky helmet? No way!”

“Hey, I think he’s cute!” Jasmine defended. “Who’s gonna be _your_ husband, then?”

Whitney grinned smugly. “Only the coolest, handsomest guy ever,” she bragged. “I’m marrying Lance, the Dragon Master.” She cocked her head in confusion when her declaration was met with giggles.

Flint popped the Ring Pop out from his mouth. “Good luck with that. He’ll be an old man by the time you get to meet him,” he blurted out, unable to stifle his hoarse chuckles.

“What do you mean, when she meets him?” Volkner added. “He’s an old man right now!”

“Yeah,” Jasmine spoke up shyly. “He’s gotta be at least thirty by now! Think he needs dentures?”

“Ew, that’s gross!” Viola blanched.

“You guys are so mean,” Whitney whined. They all shut up at this; the whole class was well-acquainted with Whitney’s ability to throw temper tantrums. “It’s not my fault you’re not mature enough to handle an older man,” she concluded proudly. Volkner and Flint couldn’t help but chuckle again at this, but she took it as a compliment. “Maylene, what about you?” When she was met with silence, Whitney raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t thinkin’ about what’s for lunch again, are you?”

“Huh?” Maylene, who’d been fiddling with some of the threads on the Pokéball-decorated carpet, looked up.

“Which boy are you gonna marry, silly?” Viola explained. “You gotta pick one.”

Maylene wrinkled her tiny nose. “I don’t wanna marry a boy. Boys are gross.”

The girls all laughed condescendingly, but Volkner cut in. “Nah, she’s right. I dared Flint to eat dirt once, and he actually did it.”

“EW!” the girls cried.

“What? He gave me a quarter,” Flint shot back. His response didn’t seem to convince anyone, so he retreated back and sucked on his Ring Pop petulantly.

“And they don’t wash their hands, either,” Maylene added.

“Really?! That’s icky,” Whitney replied, repulsed. When Volkner shrugged and didn’t deny it and both Pichu and Chimchar nodded in affirmation, the girls all made gagging noises.

Flint redirected the argument. “Whatever. You girls all have terrible taste. None of you picked me or Volkner!”

Whitney snorted. “No way. Who’d choose you guys?” Flint and Volkner gasped at the snub, and Jasmine tried to soften the blow.

“Well…you guys just aren’t that…gentlemanly?” she tried hesitantly. The boys weren’t placated by this and turned to Maylene for support.

“Gross,” she reiterated with a smirk, sticking out her tongue.

“Besides, you guys are kinda goofy. You’ve both got weird hair,” Viola explained. “Flint, yours looks like a bush.” She made to poke it, but retracted her hand with a grimace, seeming to think better of it.

Whitney continued with a chuckle. “And Volkner…what are those things in front of your ears anyway? Are those sideburns?” She cackled at her own words, and the other girls started laughing as well.

Volkner felt a pang of embarrassment in his chest, and his cheeks turned red and puffed out as he was overtaken by humiliated frustration.

Flint was used to jokes about his hair and had grown thick-skinned about it, but pity and panic flooded through him when he saw Volkner’s face. He’d seen that look before, and it always made his heart ache. He sprang into action.

“Oh, what do you guys know? Volkner’s sideburns are cool, and he’d make a great husband!” He nodded with conviction. Volkner turned to him with wide eyes, but Flint was dismayed to hear the laughter increase in volume. He spoke out again.

“Volkner’s smart, and honest, and—and caring, and he’s really, really responsible! He’s really cool!” The other kids went silent.

“…Really? You think that, Flint?” Volkner asked quietly, his eyes shining with wonder.

Flint nodded without a bit of hesitation. “Yeah. You’ll be a great husband one day!”

At last, Whitney snorted. “Then why don’t _you_ marry him if you love him so much, Flint?” she teased. Jasmine and Viola snickered at this, but Flint seemed to ponder the idea for a minute. His face lit up in a grin.

“Alright! Volkner, let’s get married!” Volkner gaped, but Flint continued. “If we get married, we’ll get to hang out all the time, and you can keep me from burning down the house!” Flint’s smirk turned to a frown as he said the last part. “My grandpa always says I’ll need someone to keep me from doing that.”

Volkner nodded and smiled shyly. “Really? Well, it certainly beats all these _girls,”_ he sneered. “We don’t need them! Let’s get married!”

“You guys can’t _actually_ get married,” Viola reminded them. “You’re both boys!”

“Yes, they can!” Maylene protested. “They can if they live in Unova!” When five sets of confused eyes turned to her, the girl grinned sheepishly. “Didn’t you guys hear? Boys can marry each other in Unova, and…so can girls!” She scratched the back of her head timidly at the last part.

Flint pumped his fist in the air. “That settles it! We’re movin’ to Unova ‘n gettin’ married!” With that, he pulled the Ring Pop from his ring finger and instead slid it onto Volkner’s.

Volkner bounced up and down with joy. “This’ll be great!” His bouncing stopped for a moment. “Wait…we can’t get married yet, right? We’re too young…” He deflated at his realization.

“We’ll just hafta wait, then!” Flint pressed on, undeterred. “I think ya hafta be ten. Is it ten or twelve?” The other kids shrugged, similarly oblivious to marriage age. “Then we’ll wait, okay?”

Volkner bobbed his head with enthusiasm. In a bold move, Flint took Volkner’s head in his hands and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “There! Now it’s official!”

Volkner wrinkled his nose and rubbed his cheek, which was now sticky with the remnants of Flint’s saliva and the Ring Pop. “Why’d you do that?”

“Well, if you get married, you have to kiss, right?” Whitney pointed out. “It’s just the rules.” The girls nodded, but Volkner wasn’t convinced.

“Well, I’ll marry you, Flint, but that was kinda gross. You have to promise never to kiss me again, understand?” he offered as a compromise.

Flint giggled. “Deal!”

\--

“Private Volkner, reporting for duty!”

“Status report?”

“Perfectly healthy, sir.”

“Significant events for the day, Private?”

“Just one, sir: I am now engaged.”

“…In combat, Private?”

“Negative. In marriage.”

“…”

“Once I turn ten.”

“…”

\--

Twenty years later, a kind old woman in her seventies approached her favorite armchair with a stack of letters in her hand. She leaned heavily on her cane as she slumped gratefully down into the soft chair with a sigh and got to work sorting through her mail.

Bertha shuffled through the bills and junk mail, thankful that her vision hadn’t left her as much as her knees had over the years. After a few moments, she stopped as she was met with a fancier envelope, and her eyes widened as she opened it, only to be greeted by the elegant typeface of a wedding invitation.

She read the names of the grooms-to-be, and she chuckled. It was about time.

She knew she’d chosen the right companion for Volkner that day.

The end

**Author's Note:**

> Volkner was attempting to recite the core values of the Air Force (which is the branch of the military Lieutenant Surge was a part of): integrity first, service before self, and excellence in all they do.
> 
> Although the player first meets Surge in Kanto, his title is “The Lightning American,” and Unova is the Pokémon world’s equivalent of the United States; even one of the NPCs in Black 2 and White 2 thinks that Surge might be from Unova originally, so I thought it would be fitting for him to be from there, especially because both Kanto and Sinnoh are based on Japanese locations, so this would explain why Volkner has a “Unovan” (American) accent when compared with the other students.
> 
> …
> 
> I put way too much thought into this.


End file.
